


as lonely as i can be

by humanveil



Category: Leaving Las Vegas (1995)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 21:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16437521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: Maybe it’s about Ben, maybe it isn’t. Maybe it doesn’t matter.





	as lonely as i can be

**Author's Note:**

> _hooker at bar_ is the [character](http://humanveil.tumblr.com/post/179517320667) played by mariska hargitay. she never got a name and that’s the only thing she’s credited as, so i figured that would be the tag.

She’s standing outside the casino, her back to the wall, her eyes watching the bodies filter by. Sera spots her easily, her beauty similar to that of her own. The kind that stands out in a crowd. 

Sera moves toward her slowly. Takes the time to trail her gaze over her body; to take in her face, the loose curls that frame it, to take in the short, black dress that clings to her body, the garment not unlike the one she’d worn the other night. 

The woman—Sera still doesn’t know her name—looks up. Meets her gaze for a moment, something akin to hesitation flickering across her face. Like she wants to leave but won’t. 

“If this is about—” the woman starts as Sera reaches her, but Sera shakes her head: slow and steady, her expression almost blank. Impassive. 

“It’s not,” she says. Ignores the way it tastes like a lie. 

There’s money in her hand, the bills rough against fingertips. Sera moves closer still, leaning in until her body is close to the woman’s: one arm reaching so her free hand lies palm down on the wall behind her, almost as if to close her in. Keep her there. 

Sera stares at her, the woman staring back. Like she’s waiting for something. Like she’s trying to figure out if she needs to run or not. 

Sera could almost laugh. Instead, all that comes out is a humourless huff of air, not quite a sigh, her breath warm and smelling faintly of alcohol. It tickles the woman’s face as Sera leans in, the hand holding the money lifting to slot the bills beneath the strap of the woman’s dress. 

“It’s not,” Sera says again, mumbled, this time, her lips grazing the other woman’s. It hurts, her wounds still fresh, but Sera presses on anyway. Kisses the woman with gentle desperation, slow until she gets a response. 

Maybe it is about Ben, she thinks as the woman’s lips part beneath her own. Maybe it isn’t. 

Maybe it doesn’t matter. 


End file.
